


I can't believe you thought my name was I love you

by Radia_Alstroemeria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious original character, Bisexual Harry, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, F/F, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just wanted to see Harry have a happy family, Mutual Pining, No shame, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, do it yourself, i'll put more specific tags when i have a better plan, if you want a job done right, sorry it's so general, they're both dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radia_Alstroemeria/pseuds/Radia_Alstroemeria
Summary: It was a muggle envelope, Harry noted. A stark white and neatly pressed envelope. He turned the envelope and was bewildered to find only three letters.I - L - Y'I love you?', Harry thought, disappointed somehow, at the lack of mystery. It must have been another first-year who had yet to realize that the wizarding hero was just another teenage student struggling through third-year Potions. At least, he could be sure it wouldn't be from a Slytherin, or so he thought as he carelessly ripped open the envelope.Inside was not a letter, however, but a postcard with a picture of some sort of colorful vehicle labeled with 'Manila'. At the top, in round, bold font it said, 'Philippines'. It only had a short question at the back.'Come here with me someday?'Harry smiled.
Relationships: Harry Potter and Original Female Character, Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

It started like this.

She really, really, _really_ had not meant to eavesdrop on the trio. Sure, she was often too curious for her own good, and too excitable for gossip (for this, she blamed her aunts at home who often gathered at the porch, sipping cognac and gossiping like no tomorrow in broad daylight). But well, an adrenaline-junkie she was not, a thrill-seeker nor danger magnet, she was _not_.

If she had known the load of trouble the bespectacled boy would drag her into, she would have run away, heart-pumping and giggling at her rare flirt with danger and adventure.

Except, she wasn’t an excellent judge of character or atmosphere. Hearing them whisper arguing (loudly!) with each other in the library, her first instinct was to duck and hide behind a bookshelf. Her second instinct was less distinct in what it wanted her to do.

A part of her wanted to leave before they caught her suspiciously lurking like some kind of weirdo, but another, smaller, but mischievous part of her told her to stay and figure out what they were so vehemently discussing in the library.

She froze in indecision. _You would grow in Gryffindor, my dear_ , the Hat had whispered to her that night.

Biting her lip, she peeked over a bookshelf and caught sight of a Gryffindor trio (to be dubbed _The_ Golden trio in the near future, much to her amusement and cringing), and she noted, among them was a _very_ telling messy-haired skinny, bespectacled boy.

“—nape is evil!”

“He’s a professor Harry!”

“An _evil_ professor.” The freckled boy reminded, a glum look on his face.

With that, she decided her curiosity was more than satisfied and she had _no_ intention of getting mixed into anything that had _Snape_ in it. The man was anxiety-inducing enough in class, she had no wish to extend that to _outside_ of class. Thankfully, she was not sorted into Slytherin. _You have some cunning, you can learn to be sly_ , the Hat had said.

She had vehemently countered it, _“You and I both know, Mr. Hat, that I have no ambition.”_

Lost in thought, her heart painfully jolted her back into reality when _green, green, green_ eyes caught sight of her, and her breath caught in her throat. She dashed away and ran out of the library, heart pumping, and not-giggling with terror.

Her thoughts were a litany of _Holy shit!_ and _why am I panicking?_

Some older students, perhaps a prefect, shouted out in concern when she zoomed past them in the corridor, and she counted her lucky stars that there wasn’t a professor to deduct points or else she knew she would spiral further.

She stopped running when her lungs felt like it was drowning in fire and legs were trembling too much for her to move. She was at the sixth—no, the seventh floor, she noted hysterically as she giggled.

 _Oh Merlin_ , she thought apprehensively, _was that an anxiety attack?_

 _You would grow in Gryffindor, my dear_ , the Hat had whispered.

 _Please don’t Mr. Hat,_ she begged it _. I am a coward._

Calming her mind and heart as best she could, telling herself she would visit her therapist during Christmas break, and resolutely promising to herself that she would be avoiding Gryffindors _forever_ , her mind couldn’t help but fixate on the tapestry of a man with ballerina trolls in front of her.

Anything to keep her mind off the boy’s green eyes that jolted her heart in fear each time she remembered it.


	2. The Boy That Could Have Been, Her Archrival, and a Train Ride part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't have a Harry Potter fanfiction without the Hogwarts Express. 
> 
> Enter, prospective Gryffindors and sleepy Ravenclaw.

She had been a full hour early, and despite feeling groggy still, she was grateful for not having to deal with the stress of trying to find an empty seat on the train. Leaning her head against the window and sighing at the cool temperature, she absentmindedly brushed her hand against her wand, assuring herself it was real and holstered properly. 

She must have dozed off because when she snapped back into reality, the train was bustling with life as children and families said their goodbyes. Her anxiety rocketed, and she nearly prayed that no one would open her compartment door, unlikely as it is. 

A knock startled her, and she banged her head on the window, cursing. Heart hammering, she found the culprit looking at her wide-eyed and apologetic. He looked soft and kind with his round cheeks and overall meek demeanor. 

“ _ I’m so sorry! _ ” He rushed, and before he could continue, she waved a hand and laughed. 

“No, it’s alright. It’s my fault for being so high-strung.” Shrugging, she asked, “How can I help you?”

“I was...uhm, I was wondering if-if I could sit...with you?” He cringed at the end and looked down at his shoes, already expecting a rejection. She couldn’t help but relate with him. Plus, he seemed nice, even if he was a  _ boy _ .

“Sure, I don’t mind.” She accepted, and when he hesitated she assured him, “Really, I’m actually glad you asked.”

“Oh…” He mumbled, fumbling with his luggage. 

“Do you need help with that?” She offered, though she didn’t particularly look forward to standing just yet since she was pretty sure her legs had fallen asleep. 

The boy flushed before vehemently shaking his head.  _ Boys,  _ she sighed.  _ At least this one seems quiet _ .

He sat across from her, where her smaller gym bag was before she made space for him. He looked at it curiously but did not comment, which earned him plus points in her books. 

“I’m Neville Longbottom. Are you a first-year too?” He asked, voice soft with an undertone of hesitation. He held out his hand and she stared at it for a moment, unused to the gesture before gripping it in what she hoped would be the polite amount of force. 

“Ah yea, I am.” She replied, her mind haltingly processing that this,  _ this _ was the Boy-That-Could-Have-Been, and _ wow _ , uhm cool beans, thank you for that important but useless information  _ brain _ . “I’m Diwa Tuazin.”

“You’re French?” The boy, Neville, blurted out. He didn’t seem used to social greetings it seemed. 

She nodded, “Half. From my father’s side.” 

“Oh,” Neville said and then there was silence. 

_ Oh, Merlin, two socially awkward and anxious first years walk into a compartment _ , She thought, her eyes drifting out the window, the atmosphere strangling her. 

“What house d’you think you’ll get into?” She tentatively asked, looking back at him and trying to give him her approximation of a kind smile. To her bewilderment, this seemed to depress the boy further. 

“Hufflepuff, probably.” He replied glumly. 

“What’s wrong with Hufflepuff?” She asked, her head leaning into the window as she got a better look at him. 

He gave a heavy sigh, “Both my parents were in Gryffindor. I’m not brave enough.” 

And what the hell was she supposed to say to that? Because as far as she’s noticed so far...that was true. 

“You know, you don’t  _ have _ to get into Gryffindor. There’s nothing wrong with being who you are.” She advised him. “Plus, being Hufflepuff is great! I wouldn’t mind getting into the badger house.”

It was her second choice actually. 

“I suppose.” Neville acquiesced though there was a doubtful look to him. “What about you? Do you think you’ll get into Gryffindor?” She pursed her lips and looked back out the window, annoyed at the boy.

No, not so strong a word as annoyed. Just upset, she decided. Gryffindor house wasn’t _The_ _Greatest_ house of Hogwarts, she couldn’t understand people’s fixation with it. What’s so great with being brave anyway? No, best be--

“I would prefer Ravenclaw actually.” She corrected him, unwilling to face him else he’d see her displeasure or impatience. She bemoaned the loss of her peaceful train nap. 

“Really?” He sounded surprised at this. She hummed in reply and considered better topics to talk about but she was lost.  _ In which case _ , she told herself smartly,  _ best to ask a question about them, people love talking about themselves _ .

“What’s your favorite color, Neville?” She asked, her eyes now closed and basking at the coolness of the glass window. She heard some shuffling noises, the tracks as the Hogwarts train sped by, children laughing as they passed by their compartment. 

“...Blue?”

“Cool, mine’s purple.” She blandly responded. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Uh, Winter I guess?” She took a peek at him and he seemed bemused at the interrogation. “I like the Fall season. It has the best weather and fashion.” She told him. 

“Favorite subject?”

“Herbology!” Neville excitedly responded, perhaps a bit too loudly, considering the quiet atmosphere they previously had, and so true to character, he flushed. She smiled at him, pleased with the change. “Mine’s Charms. Why Herbology?”

“Uh well... “ He paused and looked at her, before continuing, “People think it’s magical gardening or they dislike it because they have to deal with dirt and the sun but it’s more than that.” He gained a more passionate edge at the end of his statement. “Certain plants at certain moon cycles can have near-miraculous effects, sometimes there would be no reason at all! There’s much to be discovered and--”

She didn’t  _ mean _ to tune him out, in fact, she appreciated the passionate and well-informed spiel but he was in technical term territory while she knew squat about herbology. Not British Herbology at least.

However, Neville was interrupted out of his academic zone when a sharp knock jolted both of them, and he wilted like a plant unwatered for a day. Pursing her lips, she was determined to dislike the next person to open her door. She worked  _ so hard _ to find a good topic with Neville. 

She shot him a smile, “I hope you can tell me more later, Neville.” 

A bushy-haired buck-toothed serious-looking girl appeared. Alright, perhaps that wasn’t the best description but! Her peace and quiet! Gone! 

“I’m Hermione Granger, nice to meet you. I noticed there was space in this compartment, would you mind if I sat with you?” The words she used were polite but her tone was very rude, Diwa noted. It reminded her of  _ Tita Mercy  _ when she scolded her about her clothes and grades, and annoyance rose in response to the association. 

“I’m N-Neville Longbottom,” Neville replied before peeking at her, asking silently if it was alright. 

_ Well, it’s not like I can turn her down without sound like a bitch, can I? _ And the thought of conflict and being disliked, even by this snotty girl, made her heart twist in anxiety. 

“It’s alright, come on in.” She smiled insincerely and not bothering to offer help with her luggage, and the girl, Hermione, narrowed her eyes in response.  _ Caught on, have you?  _ “I’m Diwa Tuazin.” 

“Pleasure,” Hermione replied curtly. 

After some maneuvering, Neville now sat directly in front of her near the windows, with Hermione at his right. Diwa refused to move her gym bag and make space for the rude girl. 

She knew then, the right move would be to push Neville back into his spiel about Herbology and have him fill the silence. Yet, perhaps it was pettiness or something else but she refused to share so easily Neville’s passion that she worked so hard to dig out to the girl. 

“So Hermione, what Hogwarts House do you want to get in to? Neville prefers Gryffindor.” She shared a smile with Neville (though his could be misconstrued as a grimace). “I prefer Ravenclaw myself.”

The girl lit up and eagerly grabbed the opportunity to speak, “I read about them in Hogwarts: A History! I prefer Gryffindor, I read that it was Headmaster Dumbledore’s house.” Her words shot out like a bullet and Diwa couldn’t help but be blindsided at the enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t mind the Ravenclaw house either, knowledge and books seemed to fit me more.” 

“You don’t say.” Diwa commented dryly before adding, “Well it seems you would either be with me or Neville so let’s get along.” Faker words have not been said this evening. 

“I won’t get into Gryffindor, it’s impossible.” Neville sighed, and Diwa winced at pushing him into another shame spiral. 

“Neville, I can’t really say this 100% since we just met but,” She paused, considering her words carefully. “While you may not be an immediate shoo-in for Gryffindor, I believe there’s great bravery and honor in you that _ you _ have yet to discover.”  _ Ah crap, too cheesy _ .

Neville and the girl were looking at her, and Diwa couldn’t tell if they were good looks, making her nervous. “So anyway, uh, once you do, I’ll be glad to see you reach that point, Neville.” There was no mistaking her awkward gesture and smile, uncomfortable at their attention. 

“Thank you.” Neville quietly accepted and gave her his first wide smile of the day, and even if they had a rocky start (in her mind), a part of her softened at this. 

“No problem, Neville. I’m glad I have you as a friend before entering Hogwarts.”

“You’ve met just now on the train?” Hermione butt in and Neville shook his head in reply.

“We didn’t actually know each other before this.”

“Oh,” Strangely, the girl looked relieved. “I just feel worried about being left behind. There’s so much I don’t know yet! I’ve been reading all the books and newspapers all summer but everyone I’ve passed at the train seemed to know each other and--”

“Hermione breathe!” Diwa cut her off, “Your lack of air is making  _ me _ nervous.” Granted it didn’t take much to make her nervous but well, fake it ‘till you make it. 

“Are you a first-gen?” Diwa questioned and surprisingly, both Neville and Hermione asked together, “What’s a first-gen?”

“Oh.” She paused. “Neville I thought you knew but I keep forgetting terms are different here. I suppose the term in England is ‘muggle-born’”?

“You did say you’re half-french. I didn’t realize they used a different term in France.” Neville said in wonder. 

“I see! Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress,” She cut off to explain and Diwa resisted the urge to roll her eyes and say  _ Yes, I know. _ “Visited me during the summer and explained to my parents and me but there was just so much to research on. I hadn’t even realized the nuance of language in the Wizarding world.” 

_ Perhaps, part of my dislike for the girl _ , Diwa considered,  _ is how anxious she makes me feel with all her nervous energy _ . 

“That’s alright.” Diwa assured her, “We’re all a bunch of eleven-year-olds. My knowledge of the world, Magical or not, is still pretty spotty. Would you like to ask Neville or me any questions specifically? Maybe we can help.”  _ Am I showering off? Just a little bit. _

“What’s a first-gen?” Hermione repeated, and compared to the cold glances both girls were sharing at the beginning, Neville was relieved to find it thawing, perhaps he could get out of this train ride with two friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diwa is imperfect. Honestly, I'm worried about not making her imperfect enough (did I make her too mature? yikes), so this chapter will definitely be edited in the near future. We see here (I hope damn, I'm not a writer guys) she's not the easiest person to befriend (nor the hardest, to her credit). She judges people, likes her own space, she's impatient, she doesn't like getting bossed around but also, she's easy to startle and make anxious, she's not one to be straightforward or bold, preferring to show you her dislike through other ways. She likes sticking to politeness. 
> 
> On the other hand, I think we can call her nice, yes? she wants to bring Neville out of his shell and though he doesn't see some innate savior-material in Neville cause he's "nice". she thinks he's an honestly good person with potential waiting. any frustration you've interpreted from her dialogue (inner or otherwise) is aimed at herself. for sucking at socializing. man, I'm not a writer, prolly getting bad points for explaining shit here but oh well, this is just for my fun anyway. 
> 
> This isn't a hermione-bashing fic. I LOVE Hermione. But I hate it when a fic makes all the "good" characters like each other. let's create some friction, yes? also, I honestly think Hermione and Diwa's relationship would be the type that requires each other to mature more and grow on each other. They're too similar in the worst ways, and they got on a bad start because of Hermione's (perceived) slight. another bad point for Diwa tsk. 
> 
> I don't know what I was thinking making Diwa half-n-half but okay. To non-filipino speaking people reading this (first of all, why ARE you reading this), Diwa in Filipino can mean "a thought" butttt yea rough translation, it has deeper cultural connotation. there isn't a significant reason for choosing this name, I just always wanted to name SOMETHING in my lifetime Diwa. 
> 
> Tuazin is pronounced as a very french-y [tuah-zon]. if u wanna know how, just put it in google translate and hear that speaker button baybeh. again, no specific reason for this name, a very random decision cause i suck at naming things. I would like to also defend myself and say that I did not choose a french last name to sound cringey but for very specific plot reasons, I needed her dad to be the french one and have his last name. lmaoo i said plot reasons, but i don't have a plot. for very specific backstory reasons, there better. 
> 
> Lastly, hells yea I'm jumping on the no-maj and pulling random terms straight out of my ass train. I don't wanna say world-building cause I'm not a writer and any attempt i do would be a third-class try-hard wanna-be copy of what world-building is. BUT I will definitely be making shit up and doing some research for some mythical cultural basis on my bullshit. I will definitely aim to be respectful of the cultural sources I will be pulling from. 
> 
> if ur cringing, i DID tell you this would be self-indulgent as hell. and I'm also sleep-deprived. go read something better.


	3. The Boy That Could Have Been, Her Archrival, and a Train Ride part 2

Diwa was _not_ an extroverted person. Sure, she loved interacting with people. There was a pleasure in getting along with others and being liked in return. It was a shame then that Diwa was not blessed with a large socializing battery. This was something she was regretfully reminded of when Hermione _wouldn't stop_ asking questions. 

She had enjoyed answering questions and herself, gaining more insights through angles she never considered before but by Hermione's fifth question, she was already more than exhausted (and annoyed). 

"What do you mean the DADA professor changes every year?" The bushy-haired girl exclaimed in outrage. Diwa didn't even bother answering anymore and just sighed. _Farewell, train nap,_ she lamented. 

Before Neville could reply, however, he was quickly distracted by his pocket, or whatever was in it, she supposed.

"Trevor!" The boy panicked. He reached and emptied his pockets, growing distressingly frantic as whatever that was _supposed_ to be in it, was in fact _not_. 

"Who's Trevor?" Hermione smartly asked, looking none too impressed with him though there was concern there as well. 

Diwa's lethargy was loosening its grasp on her as Neville's panic strengthened, his magic slowly pervading the cabin, as if it were searching for Trevor. 

"He's my toad," Neville responded, arms now hanging in defeat as his face took on a cast of familiar resignation. Clearly, it was not the first time Trevor the Toad had escaped from his wizard. Frankly, Diwa would have never even considered taking a toad as a familiar but oh well, to each their own. 

"Well," Hermione considered, "He couldn't have gone far. Why don't we search for him in the other cabins? He's bound to be in the train somewhere." She was already standing by the end of her sentence and Diwa briefly allowed a scowl to pass through before smoothening into a look of consideration, for Neville's sake. 

  1. She was lazy.
  2. She was sleepy.
  3. After dealing with Hermione, they now expected her to talk to _strangers?_



But, she also thought,

  1. Neville was her first friend. 
  2. At least she hoped he was. 
  3. She _really_ did not want to _not_ help either. 
  4. She could recharge some energy with coffee



She sighed. "Alright, let's split up then." Like hell, she'd let _Hermione_ boss her. "Neville, Hermione you go that direction. I'll go the opposite way. Let's keep it quick and meet up in...15 minutes?" She wasn't quite sure how long it would take to inquire about a missing toad but 15 seemed like a good solid number, and besides, the other two did not seem against it as they nodded in agreement. 

The pair left first since Diwa took the time to put on her outer robes and drank large gulps of warm coffee from her thermos, absurdly glad that she had risked a scolding from her _titas_ by secretly sneaking it into her pack. Before she left, she briefly looked at her reflection in worry that her outer robes would be deemed odd by the British students. She resolutely took a breath and decided to cast the worry out of her mind. It was inconsequential and a petty thing to worry about. "Who cares what these colonizers think." She muttered. 

She had to double-back into their cabin to check if the charms that kept her belongings safe were still on, and deciding haphazardly to lock the cabin doors by using the charm her _papa_ had taught her. She let more swiftly the second time, trying to calm the worry wriggling in her heart that screamed about their unoccupied cabin and abandoned belongings. 

To her embarrassment, she stalled a few minutes in front of a cabin as she practiced what she would say but she jumped when the door abruptly slid opened and a squeak left her. The group seemed startled by her reaction but laughed, making her ears burn and shoulders hunch lower. Diwa noted in relief, however, that they were much older Hufflepuffs.

"Sorry, sorry!" The boy that opened the door said, laughing amiably. "We noticed you early on but we decided to invite you instead since you seem to be having some trouble." He smiled winsomely and Diwa, curse her, gave a shy smile in return.

"Uh, no it's okay." She chuckled awkwardly, "Thank you, in fact." 

"No problem." There was that friendly smile, and Diwa felt herself relax a tiny bit in response. They seemed a friendly sort. "I'm Matthew Edgecombe." 

"Noriyoshi Sato."

"Vale Ross."

"Valentine O'Brien, prefect." At this, the group launched into teasing remarks and laughter as the red-haired prefect (who did not look good in yellow, Diwa thought) took it with grace. 

"You're first year, right? Need any help?" Prefect O'Brien asked, and Diwa jerked slightly, unable to contain her relief. Older, Hufflepuff, and Prefect at her first try? Perhaps her luck wasn't _that_ bad.

"Uh, yes actually, thankyou." Diwa smiled, unable to help the pre-emptive thank you that slipped out. "My friend lost his toad in the train, I was wondering if it could be...accio'ed, so to speak." Stumbling a bit in the spell's pronunciation, though the group did not correct her, so all good. 

The Hufflepuffs fell into a discussion on the best way to handle the issue. Admiration blossomed in her at their teamwork and immediate willingness to help. Her eyes wandered to Ms. (Mr.?) Sato, wondering about their relationship with the internationally famous Quidditch player, Noriyuki Sato. 

Ms. Ross was the one who called her to attention with a clap. "Well, Accio could work theoretically but we've never really tried the spell on anything living, especially one that's out of sight. We wouldn't want it to come zooming towards here and hitting anything or anyone." She explained, and Diwa grew dejected at the response. 

"However," Prefect O'Brien cut in, clasping her hand on Diwa's shoulder in reassurance. "Using a Point-Me spell should be fine and doable. We've used the spell a few times for Yoshi's cat." The cat in question seemed to glower back at the prefect who took a discreet step away. 

"Thank you very much, ma'am!" Diwa responded with gusto. 

"Ma'am!" The prefect exclaimed in disbelief, "Just call me Len, please." She did look uncomfortable but then, so was Diwa. It was an aspect of western culture she especially had a hard time adjusting to. It didn't matter that she had spent three years alternating between France and England. She grew up in _Las Islas Perlas,_ surrounded by older relatives and older family friends. Not only did she have to cut out the respectful ' _po_ ' in her communication but Westerners were generally confused at being called _Ate_ or _Tita_ when there was no blood relation. 

"Er, alright Miss Len." She compromised respectfully and it seemed that Mr. (Ms.?) Sato shared a commiserating look with Diwa. Asians banding together. Oh! "Oh jeez, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Diwa, it's nice to meet all of you,and uh, thank you again! for this!" 

"Nice to meet you Diwa." The yellow badgers chorused, sharing friendly smiles. 

"I'm about to start my patrol, you can join me while we do the spell." Miss Len offered but Diwa was already shaking her head. 

"I don't want to intrude, please." Thankfully, the kind offer wasn't reoffered and she didn't seem offended at all.

Instead, Noriyoshi Sato stood, giving her a nod. "I can accompany you, Diwa. I needed to stretch my legs anyway." Matthew Edgecombe whined a bit, saying he wanted to be the one to tour the firstie but Vale Ross quickly shot him down with a teasing comment. 

Diwa breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank you very much, uh again." 

There was silence as they separated from the group, Diwa nodding in thanks at their calls of good luck. 

"What is the name of your friend and their toad?" The Hufflepuff asked, wand appearing in their hand. 

"Neville Longbottom, and uh Trevor." She replied promptly, unwilling to waste the upper year's time. "Thank you again...Miss...Sato?" 

They gave her a considering look, looking impassive as Diwa winced, thinking she had said an offense. "Sato-san will do just fine please." 

Diwa nodded eagerly, "Yes, thank you Sato-san." And the Hufflepuff gave a small smile before intoning the incantation, calling forth directions towards Trevor the Toad of Mr. Neville Longbottom of Hogwarts. 

A faint glowing string of blue emerged from the wand, tugging at them and Diwa gave a sound of delight. Magic would never stop being fascinating to her. They dutifully followed the magic at a leisure pace, Sato-san never stopping for other acquaintances in the train, though they did smile and wave back. 

It was not awkward, Diwa decided, simply quiet. 

She found that she quite liked Sato-san's calm peaceful energy. She even blushed when a rowdy pair of red-heads were politely blocked from bumping into her, Sato-san pulling her back gently by the shoulders. The red-haired twins laughingly called apologies as they rushed past. 

"You are from Asia," Sato-san stated. Diwa was unwilling to assume the question. "Yes, _po._ " It slipped! It was so hard, especially when Sato-san reminded her of her older cousin Maria, she couldn't help the honorific. "Uh, from _Las Islas Perlas."_

They simply nodded. Diwa nodded nervously, "Well, uhm most people know it as the Phi-"

"The Philippines, yes I am aware." They finished and Diwa looked determinedly at the point ahead of her. "Though, this is the first I've heard of a pearl attending anywhere outside their schools."

"I'm half," She explained, anxiety curling at her gut as they approached her cabin, an unwelcome possibility poking her incessantly. "My dad's French but I don't actually speak French too well so we decided on Hogwarts." 

"I see." 

Much to her horror, shame, and embarrassment, they ended up right back at the cabin. _Her_ cabin. Sato-san tried opening the door but frowned when they realized it was locked. 

_"Oh no."_ she whispered. "Sato-san, I'm so so sorry." 

"What?" They arched a brow. "It's not your fault. Don't worry, we'll get that toad back." 

Burrowing her face into her hands, she launched into an explanation. Completely ashamed at failing to consider that the silly toad would have still been in the cabin, albeit not in Neville's pocket. 

_Why didn't we check_ , she groaned. She totally wasted the Hufflepuffs' time and made herself look a total fool. Peeking up from her fingers, she was relieved to find Sato-san unbothered and completely impassive still. She couldn't help but admire their composure. 

Much to her surprise though, they gave a small smile that made her ears flush red. "It's no big deal Diwa. Easy mistake. We _did_ find the toad, even better that we made friends along the way."

Her eyes widened, astonished, "Friends?"

They nodded, "Yes, I hope you don't mind." 

"No, no! I don't...I just- I...didn't think I could make friends this fast," She corrected owlishly. The pair of them looked pleased with the development, in both of their own odd ways. Diwa was getting the impression that despite Sato-san's friendly nature, they did not in fact make friends so easily, which was a shame.

Unlocking the cabin, she narrowed her eyes at the amphibian, croaking innocently at the top of her gym bag. "Oh, you silly thing." 

"I'll leave you here then," Sato-san said from the door, observing the cabin intently before their eyes fell back to her.

"Thank you again, Sato-san." She repeated. "I'm glad...we could be friends." A smile curled slowly. _It was one thing_ she thought, _to befriend a fellow first year, but entirely another to befriend an upper-year._

Well, it was at least to her. 

"No problem." They nodded, giving a quick secret smile before trodding off. Diwa shook her head good-naturedly, "Hufflepuffs." 

Later, after the 15 minutes were up, Neville and Hermione would take turns sharing stories about their encounter with the Boy-Who-Lived, rude ginger, and an even ruder blonde. Diwa was quite content to sit by and listen, spacing out occasionally as the scenario seemed to play before her eyes. As they were about to reach Hogwarts, Neville had inquired how she found his toad.

"Hufflepuffs are good finders." Was all she said about the matter, echoing the words of a boy who had yet to say them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Las Islas Perlas is magical Philippines. The pearl of the Orient seas is a kind of title, label, nickname? that the Philippines has
> 
> this went much longer than I thought I could. wow. 
> 
> yes I quoted AVP at the last part pls don't hate me HAHAHAHAH


	4. The Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should have probably guessed her house.

The three of them got into a boat with a pretty girl named Lily Moon, which, in Diwa's opinion, was a name that suited her quite well. The girl was very quiet, not only barely talking, but barely making a sound as well. She was also as pretty as a flower. 

Hogwarts was completely unbefitting of its name. Oh, the castle was completely breathtaking and incredibly beautiful, especially under starlight. The lights from within the castle reflected on the lake as it sat on its perch on the cliffside. Diwa thought that it looked very majestic, like a queen sitting on her throne among a bed of stars. But why, oh why, did the Founders decide on the name of _Hogwarts_. 

Their boat was completely silent, simply staring in awe at the view before them. Diwa could hear other boats bickering among themselves, while others were goading each other to wake the giant squid in the lake.

Waiting in the hall among other first years, Diwa willed herself invisible. The hall was large, no doubt about it, but for some reason, everyone was clumping together while the brightly lit torches were a killer on her eyes. All in all, she was visibly tense. Stiffly keeping her head down, even when she was separated from her train-mates. She wasn't too upset about it, they were Gryffindors anyway, she was sure. Professor McGonagall's speech and severe scrutiny on their group made her stomach clench. She fought to keep her breathing steady. 

"Are you alright?" A boy behind her asked. He had a quiet disposition, with copper skin and dark eyes. It seemed out of character for him to ask, she absently noted. 

"Yes," She replied. "Just nervous for the sorting." Which wasn't entirely untrue. She knew she would fall into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff so she wasn't too worried about it but she was terrified of having to present herself to the entirety of Hogwarts with their eyes riveted towards her. Just the thought of it made her nauseous. What if she tripped? What if she didn't realize her name was called?

The boy had no chance to reply as they were led into the Great Hall and her breath shorted. _They were so many, so loud, so bright._

As the Deputy Headmistress called their names alphabetically, the knot in her chest grew more painful. It was to her horror that she realized she had to wait until the end as her name was Tuazin. She cursed her father, if only she kept her mother's name instead which started with a decent letter of L. 

She would never let herself live it down if she passed out during the Sorting Ceremony. She'd transfer to _Beauxbaton,_ bad french be damned. 

Hermione was called and, "Gryffindor!" She hopped off, looking chuffed and Diwa was feeling too ill to feel ill about the girl. 

It was Neville then and, "Gryffindor!" He flushed bright red as he had to double-back to return the hat. She smiled at him in encouragement as he passed her and perhaps her anxiety was too obvious as Neville did not seem at all reassured. 

The pretty flower girl was called next and, "Slytherin!" She primly took off the hat and nodded as if it was a done deal. 

It was the copper boy next, who's name was apparently Nott, Theodore, "Slytherin!" Diwa wondered if the pretty people naturally gravitated towards Slytherin but she quickly brushed off the absurd thought. 

Then it was "Potter, Harry!" the Hall erupted into hushed whispers and the tension rocketed and bounced into her. She struggled to contain herself and focus on her breathing. _They're not looking at you_ , she told herself, _they're looking at that poor kid_.

And poor kid indeed, Harry Potter looked disappointingly average. He was incredibly skinny and looked as if the wind would knock him over. His olive skin seemed to pale at the attention. Diwa did appreciate his curly hair, messy as it was. It was charming, she supposed, and she always appreciated a fellow-curly-haired person. Perhaps, average was a harsh assessment as everyone was brought up with stories of how _amazing_ , and _heroic_ , the boy was. In the end, that's what he simply was: a boy. 

She was jolted back into the present when she realized there were four of them left and _damn, she didn't even hear where the Boy-Who-Lived went._

 _"_ Tuazin, Diwa!" She grimaced at the butchered pronunciation, before schooling herself into a pleasant presentation, willing to look calm and composed. Before the hat took over her vision, she caught a glimpse of the Hufflepuff table and the friendly group from the train giving her smiles and a thumbs up. Even Sato-san was smiling. Maybe. She hoped so but she was near-sighted so...

"Oh my! The first pearl in generations!" The hat exclaimed, sounding delighted. "An honor, truly, to be sorting you, my dear." 

_Well, I don't know about that Mr. Hat. I'm just another student. Plus, I'm only half._

"You've yet to understand how special you are." The hat declared and with how loud it sounded to her, she wondered if the rest of the Hall could hear him. "No, no, a sorting ceremony is special and private. It is only for your ears, have no worry."

 _Oh, I see._ She didn't but there wasn't time to interrogate the artifact.

"Now, where to put you...I see, how lovely...yes..." Now, what on _earth_ was he seeing. "You have great pride, though you are shy. You have some cunning, you can learn to be sly."

_Rhyming? It's very well done but you and I both know, Mr. Hat, that I have no ambition_

"Yes and what a shame it is. You have much potential, my dear. Slytherin will make you great." Diwa briefly toyed with the thought but set it aside. No, she didn't have the patience or total moral compromise for the survival games in the Slytherin House. "Oh fine then, yes I see... You are very honorable, growing up with the ideals of nobility." She scoffed.

"You would grow in Gryffindor, my dear. All you need is a little push." 

_Please don’t Mr. Hat,_ she begged it _. I am a coward._

 _"_ Oh very well then, you do suit very well the Ravenclaw house." _You should have started with that house instead._ Realizing how rude she was being she apologized. 

"No worries, I've heard quite worse." The hat chuckled. "You do suit the house but the house _does not suit you_." Diwa was surprised at that, and while parsing through the meaning of it, the Hat called rather abruptly, "HUFFLEPUFF!" 

_Wait! Tell me why first!_

But it was much too late as Professor McGonagall had lifted the hat off and ushered away from the platform. She was a bit disturbed as she was unable to continue pondering on her sorting as the yellow badgers ambushed her with well-meaning pats and handshakes. Her eyes met Sato-san's and she relaxed. Perhaps...the Hufflepuff house could become her home for the next few years. 

"Hey! I'm Hannah Abbott, this is Susan Bones."

"Hello, nice to meet you both. I'm Diwa."


	5. Chapter 5

Diwa might have been introverted and exhausted from the train ride but, _but!_

The anxious energy from the Sorting had given the girl the boost she needed for the long introductions that took place at the Hufflepuff table. _Sure,_ she wasn't the best at conversation but she was more than able to pull off first introductions. Plus, attention was never focused on her for very long as the group divided it between all the firsties. She was satisfied with it all, she decided, chewing on a particularly tasty mystery beef. 

  * ~~Get sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff~~
  * ~~Make a good first impression~~



It was, all in all, a very short list but it also minimized the things that could go wrong. She accomplished it, managing to come off as friendly and warm to her housemates if a bit giggle-y ( _she was nervous! don't judge_ ). She was even more pleased to discover that the Hufflepuff house didn't need to climb stairs for their dormitory and they were extremely near the kitchens. This house definitely suited her!

Though there was a brief flash of anxiety that lingered when considering the possibility of forgetting the pattern to the barrels, her attention immediately shifted to the common room. Her jaw dropped as she took it all in. The fireplace was lit, casting a warm glow around the room. All the furniture was for sharing, not a single chair or table made to fit only one individual. There was a wall with books on one side and another with all sorts of plants. In fact, there were small potted plants scattered around the room, curling around the nearest furniture in a hug. There was a board with names and a calendar near the barrel door. There were upper-years lounging on the floor, playing different board games, and trying to stubbornly stay awake. At the corner of her eye, she spotted a nearly unnoticeable pantry which made her gleeful. The rest of the walls were covered with small photos of what she assumed to be Hufflepuffs from previous generations. The uniform growing less conservative over time and books looking _quite_ different. 

The smiles these students shared were all bright and beaming. The oldest photo in the bunch seemed to be from the 18th century, though she couldn't be sure. she'd have to ask the history professor or perhaps the head of their house. There was only one painting in the room, which was placed above the fireplace. It was of a field of flowers, a cottage sitting in the distance as the sunset. It was quite beautiful and wistful, Diwa thought. 

Though the house colors were yellow and black, the room was decorated in warm earthy colors of green, brown, gold, with splashes of red and blue. The room smelled like clean linen and sugar. She didn't realize that the prefects were done with their instructions until Hannah and Susan were dragging her off to the dorms. 

She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-sized room. Enough to contain four teenage girls and their space. As nice as the girls seemed, Diwa was touchy about her privacy and space. She didn't look forward to any fights that would crop up over the years over boundaries. 

Susan and Hannah quickly took over one side of the room and Diwa decided to take one near the enchanted window. It would be a great place to nap, she thought. 

Another girl entered, looking sheepish. "Hello, sorry I'm late. Had to ask some questions. I'm Megan Jones." Again, she seemed warm and friendly. Diwa thought, _This house may suit me but the reverse may not be so true_

"I'm Hannah Abbott!"

"Susan Bones, nice to meet you."

"Hello, I'm Diwa Tuazin. Was that our sibling that got sorted in Gryffindor?"

Megan seemed pleased at my inference and I was pleased in turn. Best to get along with people you'll be living with for the next seven years after all. "Yep! Laura Jones, and I'm not surprised she got sorted in Gryffindor at all! Though I am disappointed." She gave a small laugh as she walked to the remaining bed. "We're muggleborn so I was kinda hoping to have her with me but everyone's pretty nice so far!" 

"Hannah and I are Half-bloods but we grew up in the Magical side of things. We've been friends since we were seven." Susan pitched in, looking through her personal effects.

"I'm so excited to start Hogwarts!" Hannah exclaimed, bouncing on her bed with her pigtails swishing. Diwa was perturbed at how easily they mentioned their blood status in casual conversation. Why did it even matter? 

"Ah, I'm pureblood...sort of." She contributed awkwardly. Of all the topics she came to expect, blood status was not one of them. 

Megan tilted her head at her curiously, "How can you be 'sort-of' pureblood?"

"Well, my mom's from an old family in _Perlas_ and my dad's--"

"You're from _Perlas_?"

"You're a Pearl, wicked!"

Diwa laughed it off, "This is why I said sort of." 

"I still don't understand," Megan admitted apologetically as the nuance went over her head. She was brushing her kinky hair while leaning on the post of her bed. 

"Well, I don't really know for Wizarding Britain but from where I'm from, being pureblood has been nuanced to mean nobility?" She trailed off, turning to Susan for confirmation who nodded in return.

"I'd say that's about right. I'm half-blood myself but the name Bones is an old noble pureblood name." Susan explained to Megan who nodded. "People tend to assume I'm pureblood because of my name alone." 

"Well, anyway _Perlas_ is pretty...hmm..." Diwa paused, "Basically both my mom and dad are both pureblood, it's just that my mom is from a distinguished _magical_ family while my dad is from a distinguished _muggle_ family."

"But you said your dad's pureblood?" Hannah interjected, yawning. Jeez, how long were they gonna be talking about her? She was starting to go way past uncomfortable. 

"Well, globally, the definition of pureblood is having five generations of purely wizarding relations, no muggles." She turned to Megan who seemed to be the most curious. "My dad's family is, pretty...well, _distinguished_ in the general, pardon I mean, _muggle_ world. My dad's the sixth generation of magic the family produced so it's all pretty recent. My mom's from old blood though."

"So you _are_ pureblood." Megan reiterated. Diwa dashed her irritation at the continuance of the topic. The girl was a first-gen, it was her duty to help her understand the world she would be living in. 

"Yes, I just...don't like mentioning it because I don't see the point." At this, Susan and Hannah looked abashed from the side. "I'm not upset." _A lie_ but she didn't want to ruin the budding friendship. 

Megan look startled at the turn of events, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I do a faux pas? Everyone was doing it at the train so I thought..."

"No, it's alright, really. Though it's best to keep your status to yourself in the future. It's not really the done thing to do." Diwa advised, cradling her bathroom materials. 

"Oh come on, lighten up! It's our first night at Hogwarts." Hannah scolded light-heartedly and Diwa sighed and smiled in return. 

"We'll be here to help you, Megan," Diwa assured her. "We'll all help each other." 

Susan chimed in, "That's what Hufflepuffs do! So come on, let's clean up and get to bed, I'm exhausted." 

The atmosphere in the room finally warmed and Diwa realized how close to ruining things she had been again. Hogwarts was proving to be not easy at all, especially for a person of color from a totally different country. Diwa shuddered to imagine how the Jones's were dealing with magic for the first time. 


End file.
